


A Twinkling Leer

by InvalidTag



Series: Crimson Eyes and Silver Tongues [4]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Heavy Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, References to Sex, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27904936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvalidTag/pseuds/InvalidTag
Summary: Arackniss was never the easiest person to be intimate with, doubly so in Hell and triply so now that he has a boyfriend. But through communication, careful pacing, and a lot of courage, he can enjoy himself most of the time.But what kind of boyfriend is Arackniss when he's afraid of his boyfriend's touch?
Relationships: Arackniss/Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: Crimson Eyes and Silver Tongues [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941754
Comments: 19
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's a slur in this fic, so heads up.

_A thousand hands, a thousand eyes all running through his fur, combing over his scars. They burned his skin like a million tiny needles. It hurt to be this naked._

Arackniss groaned, and once again refused the urge to open his eyes. His heart punched against his chest, his ribs hollow. A shiver ran through his limbs, forcing him to still them against the warm scales pressed against his chest. He felt something between pleasure and pain chasing itself into his core and down into the molten heat of his crotch. His entire body was throbbing with need, pushing into something that he needed, some _one_ that he _wanted_ like no-one else. 

_Ten thousand kisses, an eternity of admiration pushed against his face, his lips, his cheeks, pouring into him, replacing him. It filled him to the brim and leaked from his many eyes like tears, tears in the fabric of himself._

And yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something _was_ wrong, and he didn’t know what. He wanted this, and he enjoyed it. But sometimes he didn’t.

This wasn’t one of those times, was it? No, it couldn’t be. A single word flashed in his mind, but he wasn’t a quitter. He was just nervous. Gently, passionately, his lover pressed their hands into the tense flesh of his body, drawing from him a quiet moan. Hearing his voice, even crying out in pleasure, brought him shame. He sounded so pathetic. 

_One million nerves, each screaming at him to relax. One million voices hollowing out his ears with their cacophonous shrieking. His ears rang louder and louder, barely hiding the steady thumping of his heart._

That’s what he was, wasn’t he? After all the things he’d done, after all the sacrifice, all the killing, all the emptiness—he was just a pathetic little demon, who had once been a pathetic little boy born into a pathetic little family filled to the brim with pathetic little problems. Eight eyes glistened with tears, each filled with enough hindsight to bring a man to his knees. The bruises felt fresh on his skin, and they _fucking hurt_. 

He could barely speak, he could barely breathe. He wanted out, he needed to get out. Those sinewy arms he once cherished being held by were now a cage, and the muscular tail sidewinding up his legs made them feel gangrenous. He was sick. Sick in the head. He always had been. Anthony was sick too, once upon a time.

His heart would burst. He couldn’t do this. 

“G-get,” he started, pumping in a harsh breath, “get the _FUCK OFF ME!”_

Pentious pulled back immediately, but Arackniss still kicked away his tail and shoved him away. He couldn’t stand to be touched. Even the air burned his raw nerves. He hugged himself and turned away, curling his trembling legs into his chest. His hands shook even as he locked them around his shoulders. His nails dug into his muscles in anger. He was so pathetic even he was getting tired of it.

“N—”

 _That voice._ _That annoying, wretched voice._

“GET THE _FUCK_ OUT!”

A pause, but no movement. The clock ticked in the corner. “Niss, I-I—”

He whipped around before he could think. “WHAT?! WHAT?! WHAT THE _FUCK_ IS IT?!”

He _loved_ the fear in Pentious’ big, red eyes, those rolling spheres that had seen two centuries’ worth of horror, now cowering before him. He clenched his fists, begging the snake to speak again. His throat burned with vomit, and hatred pooled on his tongue like venom. His heart thumped in his ears.

“L-let’s calm—”

“DON’T FUCKIN’ TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!” Arackniss screamed. “IF YOU FUCKIN’ COME NEAR ME I’LL BLOW YOUR STUPID FUCKIN’ FAGGOT HEAD OFF! **JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”**

Pentious recoiled, his face hardening into an unreadable expression that Arackniss could see through puffy, teary eyes, and _hated_. He slithered off of the bed, and retrieved his clothes from the floor. In mere moments his hat was resting atop his head proudly and the slim last few inches of his tail were slipping out the door. His lips remained still even as a look of confusion carved across his face like a scar.

Arackniss unclenched his fists and curled up against the head of the bed, resting his head on one of the many pillows Pentious kept. Exhaustion gripped not just his body but his soul. He let out a shaky breath as his mistake flashed in his mind over and over, every failure in his mind compounding into the miserable life he lived. Sadness turned into a rock in his stomach, and it wasn’t long before his tears met his deep, guttural sobs in the open air. He couldn’t even hear Pentious outside of the door, only the ticking of the grandfather clock in his room. At least he had done _something_ right for once. 

He still remembered the screaming, the insults that defined his past life. Every second of abuse had been, intentionally or not, seared into his memory, and it made him nauseous to acknowledge how much he sounded like his father mere moments ago. He felt bile pool in the back of his throat. He was disgusting, and he didn’t know if that was right or wrong. 

He scrambled for the edge of the bed, barely hanging his head over before vomiting, acid burning his throat and mouth. There wasn’t much when he was done, having merely spat out a pool of thin, clear liquid. He felt no better. 

Arackniss wiped his mouth and sat back on the bed, curling up again and shifting his body to find a position that didn’t aggravate his stomach. Tears streamed down his face, and when one softly hit the pillow beneath him, he began sobbing in earnest. Deep, heaving breaths wracked his body, trying desperately to expel the pain and hatred within him. He was a failure, he was _such_ a failure, and deep down he had always known that he deserved this. He wanted to scream, to disappear, to destroy and be destroyed. Nothing made sense to him, yet it all came crashing down on him like a tidal wave. 

Pentious was gone, and Arackniss was terrified he’d never come back. If he was smart he'd stay away, if he cared he wouldn't. Most of him knew he deserved as much, but a stubborn, lovesick part of him wanted that dumbass snake to come back so they could talk it out. It didn’t want to touch him or to be touched, but it wanted to talk. Could he even consider that an improvement? He didn’t want to. 

He’d been like this for too long to meaningfully change now. Until the day an exterminator ran him through with a spear he’d be the same person he was when he was alive: cold, angry, and hostile. Thousands of hours of combat had taught him not to fight a losing battle. Maybe he had missed something in his expertise, because he had learned over the weeks that he and Pentious had been together that his toughest foe hid behind a mirror.

Arackniss let out a sigh, but could barely get it out without another choked sob. He’d gotten soft. They agreed to stop if either of them felt uncomfortable, but he thought he could just grin and bear it. He thought he could ignore the insects crawling all over him with every touch, every kiss. He thought wrong.

Tears mixed with snot on the pillow he was laying on. His chest had grown sore from the sobbing. He didn’t care if he looked like a bitch, he didn’t care if he looked weak or pathetic. He had been told before. He knew. 

In his isolation, in the bed of another man that he thought he loved, in the cage that he himself had locked, no-one was there to tell him otherwise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as "Arackniss Eats an Angst Sandwich".
> 
> Felt like writing a sadder, more troubled side of Niss in this work. I love Pentniss, but I imagine it wouldn't be hunky-dory 100% of the time. 
> 
> More to come! Feel free to comment or kudos, and I hope you enjoyed reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arackniss tries for a happy ending.

It should’ve been three days. Maybe if it had been, the anxiety pooling in Arackniss’ stomach wouldn’t have been there. This would’ve been simpler. He liked simple. It agreed with him.

But it had been nearly two damn weeks, and going back could no longer be simple. His father had stolen every hour from him, to call Arackniss “busy” at the time was an understatement. His days had been filled with job after job, delivery after delivery, and mook after mook that all needed taking care of. How was he supposed to even _begin_ thinking about… him? 

What was he afraid of? Why? Why, why, _why_ did the idea of going back to that damn manor and talking to that damn snake make him so damn nervous? Seventy-two hours prior he plunged a knife into the neck of a demon at least four times his size and weight, but somehow the thought of maintaining a relationship scared him. This entire dilemma wouldn’t have ever happened if he wasn’t such a pussy and had just manned up and bit the pillow (literally). Did that thought still make him nauseous? Did he have to pull over and calm his trembling hands more than once on the way to the manor because he couldn’t stop thinking about that moment and hadn’t stopped thinking about it for the last thirteen days? Did he paint the blackened pavement with his upchuck at least once per stop?

He didn’t like this. He felt like he was walking into a set-up, and he had never been a fan of getting shot at. The worst part about it all was that he didn’t have to go. He could just leave and be on his merry way, but he didn’t because that would be even more difficult, for some reason.

As soon as the manor appeared in his sight, he nearly threw up on the dashboard. He didn’t like complex. It didn’t agree with him. 

But it had to be done for some stupid reason that he didn’t want to admit, so he stomped to the front door and slammed his fist against it. His heart pounded in his ears, and sweat ran through his fur. He was fucking terrified. 

An unseen slit opened and the tiny eyes of an Egg Boi peered through. He must’ve been standing with a few of his comrades. “Yeah?” It drawled.

Too late for turning back now. “U-uh, hey, little guys, is—”

“Oh! It’s you!” The one looking at him said. 

“Who is it?” Said one of the eggs holding him up. 

“It’s Nessie!”

Arackniss cringed, and stifled a laugh. Leave it to Pentious’ “loyal, terrifying minions” to crack him up in a time of crisis. 

The hidden Egg Bois gasped (somehow) and bobbed in place, making the visible egg wobble and nearly fall. “Boss has been waiting fo— _or you!”_

The egg fell to the floor, the slit sliding shut. After a short commotion the locks clicked and the door swung open, a now cracked Egg Boi leading a small group to swarm at his feet. Arackniss was reminded of cats, if cats were less evil and also idiots.

CrackEgg pointed in the direction of Pentious’ library. “Boss is in there, and golly he’ll be excited to see you!”

“Yeah,” said another egg, “he’s been kinda _bummed out_ for a while. But he sure seems to like you! Maybe he’ll blast you with his ray gun!”

“He only does that with people he _really_ likes!”

“O-kay,” he’d have to ask about that some other time, “thanks, you little bastards.”

“No problem!” They said. Arackniss gently nudged them away from his feet and made off in the direction of the library, running his shaking hands down his face. The firing line was waiting. 

The Egg Bois watched him go with bated breath (somehow). When he was gone, CrackEgg scratched the top of his shell in confusion. “What’s a ‘bastard’?”

One of the other eggs turned to him. “I know! It’s when you have two bosses and they get married.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Cool!”

* * *

Arackniss had almost forgotten how high Pentious’ bookshelves were. He wasn’t as tall as Pentious, but even if he was twelve feet higher he knew that the Sequoia-like shelves would still scrape the heavens. What other demon had a library the size of a gymnasium? What other demon had a library?

He smiled, and clutched his lower pair of arms around himself. One more turn and he’d likely come face-to-face with his tormented lover. How would he react? Would he burst into tears and wrap him up in a goofy, exaggerated hug like the bleeding heart he was? Or would that sinister, genuinely _evil_ serpent be in the modified armchair, ready to spill poison into his veins at the drop of a hat? 

No. He couldn’t think like that. Too complicated.

Another turn and his many eyes widened: Pentious was there, but fast asleep and half-buried in piles of books. Some were dog-eared and others laid page-down on the table in front of him, next to a towering stack of untouched books. Arackniss approached him silently but not slowly, his body rushing for no reason he could discern. He stopped himself only a fraction of a metre away from Pentious, his arm traitorously reaching towards the snake’s face, as if he could stand to touch him after what happened between them. He didn’t have the right, the _privilege_ to touch him. His hands were slimy tentacles when in Pentious’ presence, only able to violate and make impure. 

He sighed in frustration, careful to duck his head to the side to avoid waking Pentious. It didn’t really matter since Pentious would gladly sleep through Ragnarok if it happened, but he felt dirty being so close to him. Tucking his restless hands into his pockets, he sat in an adjacent armchair and tried not to look at Pentious, who was snoring gently. 

Inevitably, Arackniss noticed that the eyes on Pentious’ tail were closed as well. He guessed that Pentious’ body needed the rest as much as he did. He imagined the surreal sight of Pentious’ eyes drooping shut, one at a time, from his face to every inch of his luxurious tail. Would they make a _flick_ as they shut? Had they _flicked_ before and he just hadn’t noticed? He’d traced around them with his fingers before, and not one of them had ever blinked. Maybe they didn’t blink, and just closed when Pentious was asleep. He liked that thought; it could be a cute (and kind of creepy) way to tell when Pentious was really sleeping or just faking it. Maybe. 

Maybe he was overthinking. Wasn’t he supposed to _not_ be looking at Pentious?

Well, maybe having a quick look wasn’t bad. Staring was bad, but glancing wasn't. A quick look wasn’t bad. 

Pentious’ geometry would never cease to amaze him. Such slender shoulders hidden under such gaudy shoulder pads. He could almost see them under his clothes, and such a slender waist for such a robust tail, giving the appearance of an envious hourglass figure. 

Everyone had always told him that staring at girls was bad. He hadn’t heard anything about men, though. This man, specifically.

Arackniss’ fingers danced in his pockets. He crossed both sets of arms and flicked his mop of hair away from his face. It was funny how similar Pentious’ hood was to hair. It _wasn’t_ hair, but when it was closed it looked a lot like it. He could only imagine how Pentious would look with actual hair flowing down past his shoulders. Something about how overtly feminine Pentious could look sometimes made him shiver with excitement. God help him if Pentious ever used it to his advantage; knowing him, he'd take the opportunity. Just the thought of Pentious being overt with his femininity made Arackniss stiffen: those slender shoulders swaying gently in a tight black dress, the perfect facsimile of hips rubbing against him...

He took a shaky breath, and tried to control himself. He had come here to make up, not make out. The last thing he wanted was to somehow make their relationship dirtier, but by now he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer. This _man,_ this perfect, amazing _man_ that he was in love with had gotten to him without as much as a word. Being with him satisfied a primal itch in his brain that only Pentious could scratch. His hand slithered down the front of his pants, cupping his straining erection. He was losing control, and it felt too good to stop. 

He cracked open an eye and caught a glimpse of Pentious’ fangs as he silently snored, a sight that he found surprisingly hot. What else could be said about them? They were perfect tusks of dirty gold, ready and willing at all times to inject any unlucky demon in arms’ reach with a hazardous dose of paralyzing toxin. Pentious hadn’t ever used them on an opponent, Arackniss couldn’t fathom _why_ , but in a way it made sense to save them for a special time. 

The first time Arackniss had felt the pinch of Pentious’ fangs entering his body, he screamed, and nearly broke them off at the root. He knew he probably would have too, were it not for the toxins making his muscles go limp. Pentious had apologized profusely and Arackniss had laughed it off (after some creative cussing). If recollection served him right, that was the night when Pentious used him like a damn fleshlight and, coincidentally, was the night when Arackniss found out that he _really_ liked being used like a fleshlight. The thought was warm and comfortable, albeit a little sore, not unlike him the morning after. They had gotten up to some debauchery in the past, hadn’t they? Paralyzed sex, and then there was that time when he asked Pentious to _hypnotize_ him, and—

He shuddered in that familiar, disgusted way, but found the willpower to brush away the bruises and the nightmares. He couldn’t let this feeling go, not when he was so deep in it and not when he _needed_ the touch of the snake adjacent to him more than ever. He couldn’t hurt himself over this anymore. He didn’t like being hurt. 

The other chair squeaked, and Arackniss’ eyes shot open. He pulled his hand from his pants and jammed it, along with his three others, into his pockets. He quickly crossed his legs and forced a deep gulp of air into his throat to try and steady his breathing. He hated how quickly his face lit up with a fiery blush. A thousand feelings rushed through him, none eclipsing his utter embarrassment. 

Pentious stirred again, the eyes on his tail opening one at a time with a distracting _flick._ His yellow and black scales lit up with gorgeous highlights of red from the tip of his tail to his almost-hips. The eye on his chest _flicked_ open, followed by his two real eyes, which slid open in exhaustion. Arackniss couldn’t breathe. 

Pentious’ eyes _flicked_ towards him, but his main eyes remained sluggish. Only now did Arackniss notice the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion etched into his face. It occurred to him that maybe he was reading these books. He was normally more attentive than this, and he knew it was shameful to so easily lend his attention to something—or someone—else. 

A part of him was still dangerously aroused, and that part hadn’t seen fit to hide now that Pentious was awake. 

With a yawn Pentious stretched his body, arching his back until it cracked before returning to a tired slouch. His eyes swung to Arackniss, and for a moment, their eyes met in total silence. 

He shrieked and recoiled in shock. Arackniss jumped slightly, and curled up in his chair, tucking his legs into his chest. 

After several deep breaths, Pentious’ eyes met Arackniss’ again, and immediately looked away. 

“Arackniss,” he started, the _full_ name on his tongue clinical and ugly, “w-what a surprise. W-welcome, and hello.”

“Hey.”

Another beat of silence, where neither of them could find the right words. In person Pentious seemed so much scarier, though Arackniss knew that the monster sitting across from his was one of his own making. It was still Pentious. Arackniss couldn't be afraid of him, this…

… beautiful, bitchy, brilliant, bleeding-heart demon that he had fallen in love and was still in love with. The demon that deserved some honesty. 

“Look, Pent, I—”

“How have you been as of late?”

The question caught Arackniss off guard, and he paused, his words slipping from his tongue. “Uh… good, I’ve been good, yeah. Busy. But good.”

“That’s good,” Pentious said, wiping his main eyes, “I’ve been dreadfully worried, my da—arn good pal! Could you believe that I, heh, came into my library to try to distract myself from my anxiety?”

Pentious pathetic little laugh couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. Arackniss could see what was going on: Pentious was making some distance between them to avoid discomfort. Asking him how he was, saying “my friend” instead of “Nissy”, or “Niss”, or “my dear”, or any of the stupid but adorable nicknames Pentious had given him. A selfish hunger roared in his chest. He didn’t come back to be Pentious' “good pal”, not when what lied beyond tasted so sweet.

“Pent?”

“And, and I tried _cooking_ , and _baking,_ and even _knitting, can you believe it!?_ I tried knitting to calm my nerves, but I was never, uh, I was always the jumpy type!”

“Pent.”

“And inventing didn’t seem to help, because my hands, my hands you see! My hands were all _shaky_ , so I-I-I couldn’t get anything done! And—”

“PENTIOUS!”

He shouldn’t have done that. He realized immediately after shouting that he shouldn’t have done that. A scream was what got them both so fucked up in the first place, and Pentious’ silence proved it. Arackniss took a quiet breath and tried to center himself. 

“I’m sorry.”

 _“Why?”_ Pentious whimpered. “Niss, it was _my_ fault. I should’ve noticed that you weren’t… well, comfortable.”

“You ain’t psychic, Pent, ya would’ve never known if I didn’t tell ya,” Arackniss looked at his hands, disgusted, “and fuck, did I tell ya in the worst way.”

“Niss, d—”

“I was just… I was just mad, Pent. I was fuckin’ scared, and I was in my own head, and I just went off on ya. And don’t try to say it was anythin’ but that, ‘cuz it wasn’t. And it shouldn’t have been, ‘cuz ya don’t deserve that shit.” Arackniss’ eyes turned remorseful. He had never wanted to turn into his father, but for the last two weeks their reflections had grown congruent. What was the difference between an abusive father and his abusive son? 

Something tickled his foot. He spared a glance to notice the very tip of Pentious’ tail having come to rest just next to his feet. He looked at Pentious, who returned an unreadable expression. 

Pentious sighed, his shoulders deflating. His mouth opened and shut multiple times, words wilting on his tongue. “You forget where we are, Arackniss dear.”

Arackniss perked up, watching Pentious rise out of his chair and slowly slither in front of him, back and forth. It was his version of pacing.

“When I first dropped into this infernal cesspool, things were far worse. The streets were lit by burning vagabonds, the gutters swelled with piss and taplash thicker than oil—and twice as buoyant. It was nothing but pure, unleashed degeneracy, and it was a place that I, believe it or not, fit rather well in. They all see me as, as a washed-up old fool, a nobody with delusions of grandeur, but they forget history too easily. They forget what I’ve done and what I’ve learned. I’ve beaten men until my knuckles bleed over a pint. I’ve pilfered cash from Overlords and used it to fund their ‘unfortunate’ demise. I’ve murdered children, strung up the innocent, and blown holes in demons for _looking_ at me with even a _molecule_ of contempt. And that’s to say nothing of my escapades when I was living. My point is, that while I may be awe-inspiring and nothing short of worthy of being the sole ruler of Hell, I’m not a good person. I’m not, Cherri’s not, your brother’s not, your father’s not, and you’re not. There’s no use denying that, and none of you do, frankly. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Good. Anyway, in summary, you and I, along with the billions of sinners in the Pentagram were bad, awful, no-good people, and most still are. But if I’ve learned anything in this godforsaken pit…”

Pentious trailed off, slithering to Arackniss and lowering himself in front of the chair he was sitting in. His hands came to rest on the armrests. He looked up at Arackniss with those big, red eyes, the same ones that he’d get lost in one day. Arackniss’ heart beat faster in his chest, and all the love he had for the mind-numbingly inconsistent demon in front of him began rushing back. 

“It’s that we may be bad, yes, but sometimes, bad people can _try_ to be good to each other,” he took one of Arackniss’ hands into both of his own, carefully gauging his reaction, and squeezed, “and I want to try to be good to you, Arackniss. I want to try again.”

There it was: the punchline that broke and warmed Arackniss' cold heart. He felt his eyes cloud with tears, and barely managed to blink them away before letting a happy smile spread across his face. “Jesus, Pent, you didn’t have to fuckin’ propose t’me.”

“But… I didn’t. Did you think tha—”

 _“No_ , no, Pent, it’s a figure of… thing, of speech. I just… _fuck,_ I’m gonna cry." Arackniss wiped his eyes with a sleeve. "I didn’t expect ya t’get so… well, you know. ‘Lovey’.”

 _“Gushy?”_ Pentious suggested, rolling his eyebrows. 

Arackniss hissed out a chuckle that slowly turned into a genuine laugh. “You fuckin’... yeah, sure. Why not? ‘Gushy’. Sounds weird comin’ from you though.”

“Everything sounds weird coming from me, apparently.” 

Another chuckle, though this one came from more happiness than humour. He had missed their lopsided half-conversations-half-arguments, and could already hear the list of words he’d have to correct Pentious on, but it didn’t bother him. The weight pressing on his shoulders had been lifted, not entirely, but enough to stand taller. He could finally breathe. 

“I’d like that, Pent. A helluva lot.”

“As would I,” Pentious said with an exhale, “thank you. I didn’t know if you were coming back or not.”

“Neither did I, though I… I wanted to come back sooner, it’s just my pops got a hold of me. Sorry about that. I swear I woulda come back sooner.”

“No worries. What’s done is done, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Until I figure out how to pilot a time machine, anyway.”

“What? What are ya gonna do with that, go back in time and _not_ get together with me?”

Another low chuckle, in that deliciously low register of his voice. “More like go back and fall in love with you even more.”

“Pfft,” Arackniss blushed and pushed Pentious’ face away from him playfully, “shut up, ya idiot.”

“But it’s true!”

“Yeah right. The day you make a time machine is the day I eat my hat.”

Pentious tut-tutted. “When does it pay to bet against me, darling? I’ll have you know I’m the persistent type.”

“If I was smart and bet _against_ you, I’d be a fuckin’ billionaire by now.”

Pentious huffed, though Arackniss could tell he wasn’t really hurt. Just puffy, overblown, British-upset. “I’d take offense, but your gentle self-deprecation is enough to abate my anger. For now.”

“You come with English subtitles, ya mook?” Arackniss smirked. 

“Who am I, Vox? Piss off.”

Arackniss chuckled and laid back in his seat, happy to have unraveled the knot in his stomach. Pentious returned to his castle of books and talked with his trademark energy, like nothing had changed. His heart beat with contentment, knowing that Pentious had seen him in all his glory, good, bad, and ugly, and still wanted him. The fact that the air between them had grown noticeably stiller didn’t phase him, though it still left a lingering strangeness to every one of his actions. Arackniss knew he’d be ready for Pentious again one day, to have and to hold in the most lurid sense of the phrase, but that day was not today. For now, he was content to listen to Pentious’ voice and drink in his company, as one awful person madly in love with another awful person.

They deserved each other, their relationship was as simple as that. And it agreed with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First one-shot with +1 chapters! Yay me.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed reading this angst-fic! I was originally going to leave it as it was, but I was inspired by a comment to give you guys a happy ending. I'm not always so merciful, you know. 
> 
> Still, thanks for reading. Comment, kudos, all that good stuff. More (explicit) stuff to come!


End file.
